In Another World
by Cafinatedangel13
Summary: I've seen a lot of 'what if' fics and ignored all of them, so I wouldn't blame anyone ignoring this one. Three quotes, three turning points, three different ways it could have all gone. Technically Jacob/Bella, but not in the traditional sense.
1. Chapter 1

**In Another World**

_In that one hour, I thought of a hundred different ways to lure you from the room with me._

Bella walked into her Biology II class room, surveying the new atmosphere and was pleased to find it something familiar instead of foreign like the constant rain and dense forests. The hard black-topped tables and polished imitation white marble floor were almost identical to the ones used at her old school in Phoenix.

The thought of the world of sunlight, sand, and _warmth_ she'd left behind was quickly followed by a pang of loss, so she forcefully pushed the comparison from her mind to focus on the present.

Most, all in fact, of the tables had already been commandeered by two students, leaving her the outcast. No, wait; there was one open seat in the middle of the class by Edward Cullen. She recognized him by his unusual hair.

As she made her way through the aisle to introduce herself to the teacher and get her slip sighed, she watched him…go ridged just as she passed him. His perfect features were suddenly twisted in hostility, violent and furious. The intensity of his gaze left her shocked and unfocussed, and her foot caught on a book someone had set on the floor out of _their _way but very much in hers.

She tried, and failed, to catch herself on the side of the desk; it wasn't like she needed help to be clumsy. As she began to pick herself up off the floor, she felt her spine and shoulders tense as if preparing to run. That was when she noticed the room had gone quiet.

Lifting her gaze from the floor, she found herself staring into eyes as black as ink. Some unknown survival instinct told her they were the only two left in the room, and her whole body tensed in readiness as the fight or flight instinct rushed up to join it. But suddenly, without seeming to moving at all, he was flush up against her, pulling her head back and exposing her throat. One scream, cut despairingly short, escaped her lips before the world went black and her pulse slowed…then stopped.

Twenty minuets away, at the high school in the La Push reservation, the silence of an Algebra exam was shattered by a cry filled with heartbreaking notes of despair and horror. The class looked up from various test papers, worksheets, calculators, and cheat-sheets, and turned, almost in unison, to the back of the class room to find the source of the sorrowful sound.

A boy in the last row reached across the aisle and placed his hand on Jacob Black's shoulder. "Jake?"

But Jacob didn't hear him. He was staring straight ahead at nothing feeling as if he'd lost something precious, and he didn't know why. 

So, I took one of Edward's plans to kill Bella from the first chapter of Midnight Sun on Stephanie Meyer's site. And gave Bella some self-preservation instincts. Well, it is supposed to an alternate reality. Liked it, didn't like it; I wanna know either way.


	2. Chapter 2

**In Another World**

_I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me._

The forest was a blur as she flitted through the dense foliage at a speed no human could match. She hadn't known; if she had…What? Would she have postponed the wedding? With that date creeping up on her as the minuets fell through the hour glass. As time ticked away away?

She didn't know, and that wasn't important. The problem with would haves, should haves, and maybes was that they were all already dones, and you couldn't go back and change them. So there was no point in wondering.

With those thoughts appropriately chastised, her mind, though ill at ease, efficiently turned back to the present. The present was dependable, there to touch, and smell, and see. Something you could work with.

She inhaled deeply, easily picking out the familiar and beloved woodsy, musty scent, like the forest after it rained. Even after the change, she still found his warm, fresh scent appealing; she knew everyone had been exaggerating.

The scent was strong; he couldn't be more than three or four yards away. Somewhere in the thick bushes and trees just ahead; he was right there…

"Bella," the velvety voice she'd adored for years trickled quietly from behind her, startling her into an almost defensive pose. She'd forgotten she hadn't come alone. She turned to find him much closer than she thought, his chiseled angle's face perfectly calm, though she caught heart wrenching concern swimming in his beautiful topaz eyes. Silently she raised a now perfect eyebrow, asking him to continue.

"Bella," he repeated, and licked his lips as he shifted uneasily. He seemed, for the first time in her experience, nervous and unsure of what to say. Just when she thought her patience would desert her, he took a deep and unnecessary breath, "It's been a long time, Bella."

Yes it had, two years long in fact. Two years of waiting and learning, and trial and error. But she didn't understand what that had to do with anything-

She didn't get the chance to ask. At that moment the brush rustled and a much too large wolf slowly and suspiciously made his way into the semi-clearing. Two years in the forest had changed him without really changing him at all. He was thinner, but he looked healthy. The skin under his still beautiful russet coat was pulled taught over life-hardened muscles that moved smoothly and with purpose, making even Sam look like a three year old's first puppy in comparison.

"Jacob," she breathed softly, almost flinching at the harmonics of her own windy, _perfect_ voice. It was musical, melodic, and _not hers_. The wolf eyed her wearily, nose twitching, taking in her scent. Slowly, so slowly, he stepped toward her, his caution making her lips twitch as he was big enough to throw her around like a rag doll if he so chose.

After minuets that dragged on like years, he came to weary halt right in front of her. His head, almost as big as she was, came down to gently sniff first her hair, then her face, and finally nudge at her hands a little; a classic canine plea for attention. She readily complied with his request, running her frozen fingers through the still soft, glossy fur on his neck, reviling in the softness, the staggering amount of _heat_ drifting off of him, and even the new dirt and tangles she found there.

His nose drifted back to nuzzle against her face, and the smile that had formed on her lips when he'd appeared in front of her, no sign of ill will or aggression, quickly faded to a near panicked line as unfamiliar amber eyes met well loved black. The wolf returned her steady gaze, but it wasn't Jacob looking back at her.

She jumped at the icy fingers that touched her hair, and if she had not stilled her own heart long before, she would have sworn it had stopped.

"Jacob." Now she was pleading, but the wolf just cocked his head to the side and stared down at her in a manner she would have found adorable had the circumstances been almost anything else. Once again she searched black eyes that should be so familiar, desperate for something, anything, just a little speck of the beautiful boy with a smile that outshined the sun. But all they held was the nature of a wolf.

"He doesn't understand." The words were soft and apologetic, but they didn't stop her frozen heart from shattering again as she heard the sentence he'd spoken only moments before in a different light.

Two years wasn't really a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it more than long enough. 

Ok, couple of things I feel need explaining here.

1) A wolf, especially a lone wolf, is not going to react like that to anyone being in their territory. I'm not an expert on the subject, but everything I've read basically adds up to something along the lines of the pack will watch you, and if you don't seem like a threat, you'll probably be left alone. If you're approached, you're probably in trouble.

2) But Jacob is not a wolf. Whether or not a werewolf would have attacked Bella in the same situation is equally irrelevant. Human memories fade, but so do stains. Doesn't mean they're not there. Some part of Jacob will always remain _Jacob_, and that is the part of his mind that recognized her.

Anyway, I'd be happy to argue with anyone who disagrees with me or answer any questions on a point I have not made clear. Most of this is just made up, unlike the previous possibility which was actually addressed in the book.


	3. Chapter 3

**In Another World**

_If the world was the way it was supposed to be, if there were no monsters and no magic…_

The sea-bleached driftwood logs were a strange comfort to Bella, so alien and out of place on the rocky shores of First Beach, losing the rich brown of the forest to be claimed by the sea. But at the same time…they fit. They did not quite belong on the beach, and would certainly never be a part of it, but nor did they cry for the forest that would not morn for them, instead settling among the ever changing tides as if they had been there all along. If they could make a place for themselves among the rocks, sand, and tides, then surly she could make a life in Forks.

"Have you ever seen a driftwood fire?" Mike asked, drawing her away from the fate of logs at the mercy of the sea. He had gathered a fair amount of driftwood branches that had not adapted as well to their new home and arranged them into a small teepee where others had lain before.

"No."

"You'll like this then-watch the colors." He lit a branch and laid it among the others. Fire quickly began to lick at the dry wood. That was nothing; she'd seen fire before. The incredible part was-

"It's blue," she said in surprise. She watched the flames grow and die, flickering in and out as blue and green sparks leapt into the air. She barely felt the heat they gave off, far too enthralled in the magic of it.

"The salt does it. Pretty isn't it?"

For a second she felt slightly bitter towards the boy for explaining how it worked, for taking away the _magic _of it. But of course that was silly; the salt would have burned the brilliant shades of blue and green whether she knew about it or not. It didn't change anything.

Lost amid her thoughts again, she hadn't noticed the additions to their group until one of them took a seat on the log beside her. He looked about fourteen or fifteen, and had a long glossy black ponytail held at the nape of his neck with a rubber band. His skin was a beautiful russet brown color, and his eyes were a deep brown, almost black.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?"

She hadn't even realized her expression had melted into a glare until his lips turned up into a smile. It was a bright easy smile that seemed to spread like a yawn. In spite of herself, she felt her own lips quirk upward.

"Bella."

"I'm Jacob Black," he said offering his hand. "You bought my dad's truck.'

"Oh, you're Billy's son. I should probably remember you."

He shook his head good naturedly, "No. I'm the youngest one in the family-you would remember my sisters."

"Rachel and Rebecca."

"Yeah." He nodded towards the fire, still flickering between blue and green, though a more traditional streak of orange made itself known every once in a while. "Pretty isn't it?"

Mike had spoken the same words only moments before, and they had meant nothing. Jacob's tone, however, carried no hint of the casualty that Mike's had been saturated with, but a soft, almost enchanted air. As if where Mike saw the fire as pretty sparks that burn while they were needed, Jacob saw something ethereal and temporary to be cherished while it lasted. Something he wanted her to see too.

It wasn't magic; it was just salt. You could get the same effect by burning a piece of plywood and sprinkling some table salt into the embers. But the way Jacob looked at it, attentive, enchanted, completely absorbed, like he'd never seen anything like it before and never would again, _made_ it magic. Just because you knew how the trick worked didn't mean it wasn't magic.

Twelve years later, Bella stood in the doorway of a small bedroom with light pink walls and yellow curtains. The blue carpet was littered with broken crayons and well loved stuffed animals. She leaned against the white frame and took in the scene of her husband sitting on a bed far too small for him, his back against the headboard and feet resting on the floor, with their six-year old twins curled up on either side of him, heads resting against his ribs and both his arms around them. Both looked on with sleepy brown, almost black eyes but with rapt attention as he read them James Barrie's classic _Peter Pan_ before bed in a voice that brought back memories of bone colored driftwood logs, and blue green flames.

Bella listened more to his voice than the story it carried; she knew they didn't need the magic of fairy dust and Neverland. They made their own. 

Everyone should recognize the scene where Bella Jacob first meet.

And that's all. Three different turning points, three different outcomes. So, once again liked it, hated it? Please remember to be constructive.


End file.
